Dear Diary
by SoFtBaLLRuLez
Summary: 14-year old Alexa Rose Chord keeps a diary during the 'Alien-ruling' times. She goes through many dangers, and mysteries.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary…

Chapter 1

Hi, my name is Alexa Rose Chord. I'm fourteen-years-old. I've lived with my parents split as far back as I can remember. It all started when I was just two. My parents started fighting because my mom had cheated on my dad, sucks, right? Well, back to the subject, we're in the middle of an 'Alien Invasion', and I thought it might be cool for someone to keep a diary… Just in case I don't make it through it… You know how it is. Well, it all started on May 8th. My birthday… Of, course. Well, my dad's a survivalist, you know, the ones who have bags ready just in case we're forced to move-out really fast? As soon as the aliens were on the news, my dad and I were out.

I swiftly picked up my florescent orange swim-bag that was transformed into a bug-out bag. I run into my backyard, unveiling the white tarp covering my dad's get-away truck. I throw my bag over my shoulder and hop in the front passenger's seat, waiting impatiently for my dad to come with the keys. I take my un-tanned hand and push my bleach blonde hair behind my right triple-pierced ear. I just got my cartilage pierced yesterday, and it's still sore. "DAD!" I yell, at the top of my lungs.

My dad comes rushing out of the house, carrying at least four bags full of food, water, and whatever else he had wanted for us to survive in the wilderness. Well, my dad and I are used to this… Taking random trips to the wild 'outdoors'.

"So…" I finally say when he throws the bags in the back seat and hops in starting up the car really fast. I continue on, "What's going on?" I say, completely confused.

"Aliens." He mumbles, then picks-up his voice and says loudly, "Aliens… But, they were big, and metal… Not what I would've expected from outer space." He looks at me, and grins then quickly stops. The quick stop jolts the car forward, along with my head too.

"Ouch, Dad. My head…" I whine, and then grab my head immediately. I rub it, and then I look at my watch. It has a red leather strap, and has Mickey Mouse hands. It read, '2:05 a.m.'. "I'm so tired…" I reach in my bag for my LED flashlight, and then I grab it and wrap it around my neck.

"You think I'm not?" He just smiles and whips his head back around so fast that I thought it was going to crack. "Just wait until we get to the safe-house and then you can sleep until you're ready to wake." He grins.

"Why do I have to wait?" My face has a puzzled look on it. "Why can't I sleep now?" I rub my eyes.

He looks at me for a moment, and then what seems like forever has gone by, he finally says, "Because I need you to be my right-hand man." He smirks like he thinks it's a clever answer.

"Woman." I grin widely, and then I close my eyes… Just for a moment.

I awake to a turned-off car, and my dad nowhere in site. I look at my watch, it reads, '8:55 p.m.'. "Where could he be?" I say out loud, but yet, no one answers me back.

I slowly get out of the car with my loaded rifle in my hands. I look around, and see this thing down by the lake. It has six legs… 'I'm confused.' I say to myself. I slowly walk down to it, being quiet as a mouse, when I get there, it sees me, and starts to come at me. I raise my gun after I repeatedly say, 'Stand down.' I close my eyes, and pull the trigger. When I open them, it's dead. After all of that sleep, I'm still tired. I slowly and cautiously walk back to the truck, and crawl back in, scared to know what this thing was. After about six anxious minutes, I fall asleep without my dad.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Diary…

Chapter 2

I awoke this morning to a loud crashing noise…

I look from side to side in the old beat-up blue truck, looking out the windows. I turn my head so far that my neck feels like it's about to snap. I stand up in the truck and grab my flashlight that I had perched on the mirror last night. I wrap the LED flashlight around my wrist, along with my Mickey Mouse watch.

I get out of the truck holding my rifle in both hands, safety turned on. I slowly walk around the woods, anxious to see what the shocking crashing noise was. I maneuver through the trees, looking at the beautiful oranges and reds in the sunset-filled sky, completely distracted by it. I walk about half a mile until I trip and fall over something.

When I reach around to feel what I had fallen on, it feels wet. I turn around to find my dad, laying on his stomach, and shot to death. Immediately, tears fill my eyes. My eyes change from a hypnotic deep blue with dark purple irises to a soulless gray. I hear something behind me. I wipe my eyes quick, and grab my rifle. There's another 6-legged thing. I put my rifle in my one hand, and turn the safety off. The thing gets closer, and then I start to stumble back on my hands, basically crawling like a crab. I quickly pick up the rifle in both hands, and close my eyes.

The gun goes off. I open my eyes, and I had missed. "How could I miss?" I muttered under my breath. The thing looked so calm, so stable that it was just about to… Kill me! Just like they did my dad. I sigh, then pick the gun up again, the last shot ready in the barrel. With a swift movement, the rifle is lined up with my eye. I scrunch up my nose, and close my one eye, preparing to pull the trigger.

I pull the trigger, but two kids come running out of the forest with little bugs on their backs. They glow. They bump my hands, and make me mess up my shot.

They take me back to the base. The entire time, I think about how it made the other kids feel. As I look at the giant base, my jaw drops, and fear strikes my mind. I shake, and tremble. My eyes fill up with tears again, and I look at the other two children. The one was a girl; she had dirty blonde hair, freckles and purple glasses. I was talking to her. Her name was Hannah. She was funny. She looked about Six-years-old. Just seeing her in there, made me want to cry. The other one was a boy. His name was Jordan. He didn't talk much.

The surgery was painful.

They didn't give me enough medicine.

Everyone here looks like zombies. They don't speak. They don't think. They don't eat.

I snuck in my own food. Whenever I was little, I always thought about what it would be like if someone didn't feed you. Now I know. I guess they didn't put the thing on my head write. I am writing this diary. I can still think. I still speak, and I eat.

I'm starving. It has practically been at least two days for me without food. My stomach hurts.

I'm happy! A new girl came today. Her name is Zendora. She's nice, and can also talk! But, she doesn't have a glowing backpack-like thing on. She told me she's gonna break me out…


End file.
